


Hvitserk's [SSS]

by xHonestSecretsx



Series: Sy's Sinful Saturdays [Vikings] [4]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHonestSecretsx/pseuds/xHonestSecretsx





	1. Chapter 1

“Is he busy?” You say flatly on your back.

Your lover is shifting, hips shoving as deep as they could. It was known how harsh Ivar was with your body. Desperate to please, but rough with his advances. When you were with your lover, everything was different.

“He’ll be busy some time longer.” He whispers, dragging his lips down against yours. It didn’t matter how brutally quick he could be, it mattered the pleasure that his shaft and lips brought you equally. Your hand snaps to his bicep. 

“Hvitserk… If Ivar finds out.” You gasp, his lips covering the breathless scream on your lips.

“He won’t.” Hvitserk whispers against you, snapping his hips forward to hilt deep. “He won’t.


	2. Stay

You meant to dump him.

Dump him and date someone; who wasn’t your fuckbuddy Hvitserk Ragnarsson. But every time you tried to convince yourself, he had a way of changing your mind. Today, the smoothness of his vibrator slid its synthetic skin deep into your sopping walls.

“Shhh...” Hvitserk hushes your whine.

A slow drive pushed deep within you, the darkness of a cloth driven over your eyes leaving you unable to focus on anything other than him. His firm grip across your throat, the pleasure of knowing that he was doing this for a purpose. To keep you; and that filled you with more warmth than this vibrator ever could.


	3. First Snack

"Stay right there. Good... good boy.”

The first time he had a woman was entirely because Ubbe had gone out and had one first. He couldn’t let Ubbe get ahead of him of course! Your hips were bumping up against his mouth, sliding your hips up and down his face without his say so in anything.Your hands were tight in his, legs cradling him in place with his mouth against your cunt.

His rough tongue laps up to the spot you wanted him at, your clit. He roughly massaged his tongue over the nub, slurping and suckling the button until you gave him the release he never knew he wanted. Or needed, so, so desperately. His digits tightened along with yours, suddenly feeling just so wet with your hips spasming on his face. To his shock, he felt... filthy, and it was delicious.

A man could get addicted to being made a mess of.


	4. Tiny

His girl was dainty.

A tiny little thing that looked so fucking edible when she slid down his thick cock. He loved to see that sight. But almost more than that he loved to see her gasping and whimpering by something new-- foreign, inside of her tight walls.

“Smile for the camera baby. Be a good girl.” Hvitserk’s toy grazes your entrance, causing you to shift. The head was thick-- but thicker still were the other toys he had lined up to date. The chains around your wrists rattle as you turn your head, gazing straight at the black laptop. 

“Hello UbBE!” You shrill as the toy dips deep inside your walls, more than a shaking scream escapes your lips just as he hilts the vibrator deep. The laptop buzzes with Ubbe’s deep, pleased voice.

“Hello Princess.”


	5. More

“More, Hvitserk more!”

He knew you hated sharing.

Of all his women, you were he most needy of him. Typically he found himself in women’s arms for different reasons. For Margrethe, it was for the fun of being sexual with both his brother and her. Signe could whip his ass as well as show him new methods of fighting. Revna has luscious tits that fit almost as if they were made for his hands. He couldn’t recall the name of the girl with the fattest ass he’d seen, but fuck if she wasn’t immaculate. Boredom combined with a tight, tight pussy brought him to you. There was one other reason why he came to you though.

You were the neediest when he came back. The only one of his women to wait on the pier when he stepped off the boat. That was why you had him now, square on your bed waiting for more. He had already been through several sessions with you-- but he couldn’t help for more. He gave you a few harsh thrusts, spilling his thick seed heavy in your walls.

“Shit!” He cursed himself-- losing his seed prematurely inside of your body. You rock your hips, milking him clean. 

“Are you hungry, Hvitserk?” You offer to make his first meal as you slide away from his hungry lips. Ever eager to show him that you could be a good wife. You curl a piece of hair behind your ear, tugging him to sit up with you.

“I am. But not for that.” He leans up, taking your lips in his as he rolls you onto your back-- where you belonged, under him. Your hands lace around the back of his neck as he shifts back to massage his thumb against your clit.

“Oh Hvitserk! I should feed you that instead.”

Yeah-- you would have been a hell of a wife.


	6. Tiny Skirt

“Are you going to wear that shit out again?”

Hvitserk was a good dom. Caring, loving and filled you with a balance of domination and pleasure. Even so, sometimes, it was worth it to rattle him up. His hand fists your hair, yanking your head up from the flat desk where he held you. Hands behind your back and hips with no where left to go, you could only lay over the surface receptive to each harsh thrust pumping through your walls. The force of his thrusts pushed your hips against the desk, bruising under the thrusts that gave you not a minute’s breath.

“No sir!” You groan, deliberately submissive to his every whim beside the fact that you knew– that tiny, sexy little red number? It would be back… and so would Hvitserk’s rage when another man twiddled his thumbs under your skirt.


	7. Stupid Book

Getting Hvitserk to lay down was a challenge.

Not only because he was... Hvitserk but because he was insatiable. It was winter, it was cold outside. Stuck inside meant two things-- eating or fucking. He needed more variety! Begging him to read a book in your bed left him deep within you. His hips shifting in and out of your body like he was a trained pup, lazily filling you up while sleepily holding your breasts.

“We didn’t finish the book.” You mumble into his arm.

“We don’t need the book.”


	8. Shy

Christian women were adorable.

If he wasn’t taking them-- encountering them, corraling them back into his bedwas fun. This one was particularly shy about her body, a tight little fuckable thing under those loose robes. A holy sin if there was such a thing.

“I-I can’t.” She stutters, bending her head away from him.

“It’s easy.” Hvitserk says, gliding her hand from gripping the edge of the table. He glides her hand to the front of his dark chocolate trousers, rubbing along his hard shaft that outlined his pants.

“Oh glory!” She exclaims, her other hand slapping across her cheeks as he cups her hand on top of his. He forces her to massage his arousal, back and forth with a rough hold.

“Well, it is glorious.”


	9. Her Dog

“Fuck (Y/N)!” 

Hvitserk groans as you yank him into a kiss by the skinny black tie he wore to work under the clutches of his brothers. He isn’t Ubbe’s dog. He isn’t Ivar’s or Bjorn’s either. None of them deserved to call him their dog.

Except for one.

“Ugh!” Hvitserk’s back bounced against the corner of a cabinet. Your hand was holding his tie like a noose, drawing him tight into position. Your other hand busies itself with loosening his belt and drawing out his cock, swollen by your rash attack. He follows as you shift to sit behind him, the heat of your core against his back. Your legs spread, long stockings and sharp heels winding around the front of his knees to hold him in place.

Your palm encompasses his cock, stroking it to immediate excitement by a few wonderfully quick tugs. “Good boy, Hvitserk, drool for me.” You worship him for the slick beading along his head.

The only place he wanted to hear ‘good boy’? Out of your lips.


	10. Raw

Don’t date omegas. They never let you go.

When Bjorn told him that-- he thought it was a joke. Something about their clingy natures or how they would be if you left them. He never expected your heat to seep under his skin, dragging him from bed onto the ground in a frantic barrage of needing thrusts grasping anything he could reach.

“Wanna... wanna fill you up.” Hvitserk husks with a voice that cracks apart. “You’re getting tight again.”

He had no knot to offer you. But you were special-- your muscles could clamp him, squeezing him in place of the nonexistant knot. The filth spilling onto the ground from your cunt soaked the room. With no alpha to fill the ache for a knot, your scent hadn’t lost its potency.

“Again!” You beg.

Again, he hilts within you feeling how wet and willing you were for him. His seed sprays through your walls, dominated by the need to seed over and over again. Without the potency of an alpha-- he needed to keep seeding. He couldn’t get close enough. Your hair, the back of your neck, anything. He’d take anything. Anything he could get.


	11. Breed the Bitch

You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. For him– for Ivar. Your body was restrained so damn tightly, there was no where you could move. Here or there, your wrists fought the metal that kept them tight. Yet your hips were the ones that had no where to run.

“How is he doing?” Ivar sat across the room, arms folding with a cocky smile smeared over his lips.

He knew damn well how Hvitserk was doing. His cock was spreading your abused walls apart. Your ass bounces upon his hips with every thrust. Each harder to take than the last. The aid of the wooden poles digging deep into the floorboards helped the prince plunge deep into your hole.

Cum was seeping down from your hole, streaming down your inner legs. This is what you wanted– and as Ivar’s favourite little thrall, he was going to give you what you wanted.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, (Y/N).” Ivar warns and leans forward.

“G–Good Master!”

I want a baby, Master.

I’ll give you a baby.


	12. Not Ready

Not that he tries to avoid you.

But the second he comes home, he knows that he will have to tend to husbandly duties. Fix this, fuck wife, eat food, fuck wife, clean this, fuck wife fuck wife fuck wife. Maybe sometimes he wanted to relax too. Even if he loved all the things you did to his body– and how you filled his tummy.

“(Y/N) wait!” He grunts, falling back onto the bed with a thud. His honey coloured hair spills over the pillows with your hand tight on his throat, pinning him right where you wanted him.

“I want that nasty tongue.” You grin nastily, scooting your way up to his face.

“(Y/N)!”

“Now, Hvitserk.” He hastily complies. When he asked for the gods for a woman just like him– he didn’t mean THIS like him!


	13. Wait for it!

You were always late for something.

It wasn’t your fault! Truthfully! It was the fault of him-- Hvitserk. A quick snack before you left for school could often lead to this, pulling your legs back while Hvitserk used his dick head to rub along your sensitive little clit. Your pussy clenched around nothing.

Nothing but the empty ache of needing him to fill you wide and deep. “Hvitserk.” You groan. “I need to get to class...”

But the whine on your lips is misleading. Hvitserk smiles, grinding his tip side to side against your erect clitoris.

“It’s worth it.” He croons, shifting himself toward your entrance. “Isn’t it?”

No, you should have said. But your mind was too far gone, rocking up onto the dick that began to push forward.

“Everytime.”


	14. Stay Put!

The new Christian bedthrall he found was a delicious little thing under all the robes. They were torn to shreds now, chucked somewhere else entirely while Hvitserk held onto the back of her knees to keep her into place.

“Keep your hand there, (Y/N).” He demanded of her, making sure that she would roll her fingers against her lips. To give him a show after a hard day of raiding.

“I can’t!” She shouts out, clenching his dick for his seed. Her back arches under the weight of his thrusts, arching off of his head. His palm flatly pushes down on her stomach, then darts to grab her throat with a bruising grip. But he was far from mad about the mess on his cock.

“Don’t tell me no.” He cackles. “You’re cumming all over my dick!”


	15. Relaxation

Coming home from raid meant one thing to Hvitserk.

He could come home and see how much you loved him. Which usually consisted of one thing: your hips rolling onto his face for hours and hours, causing his jaw to numb as your soaked pussy drew thick fluid from his nose, over his moustache and down his chin.

Cords were tight around his cock, holding his excitement in place. Like a good dog he held his boner hard and proud, bobbing in the air with every swirl of your hips.

“That’s my good, good boy!” You held your arms against the bed, riding him as if he were a pony. Somehow– he never got sick of it when you talked to him like he was a dog. Because even dogs got good treats at the end of the day.


	16. Soft

The best kept secret in Kattegat were the chubby girls.

The ones with rich fathers that spoiled them stupid– and made them nice and chubby for the picking. Of course with all the stupid immature men around, they could be shy. Turned down one too many times, made fun or or ignored for thinner things. You were quietly mushing down on his hips, grinding and rolling him around within your tightly knit walls.

He reaches up toward your breasts, massaging your sore nipples when you come to bat him away. “Hvitserk– my body is…” You mumble, shyly turning your eyes away when he grins toothily up at you.

“Soft? Beautiful?” He groans, enjoying the weight on his hips as he weakly thrusts up. Fuck he loved a set of fat hips.

“Everyone in Kattegat would say fat.”

He grins. “I would say Kattegat’s best secret.”


	17. Spoiled Brat!

There was this little maid. She knew whatt she was doing everytime she bent over in his father’s preferred uniform-- a disgraceful french maid’s uniform with... while Hvitserk was around, no panties. As far as he was concerned, it was a beacon in a house full of men that had just crossed the threshold of adulthood.

Fuck Hvitserk loved being rich. He was a simple man. Simple needs-- but when it came to sex, he loved all of the extra things.

“Master Hvitserk, your father will be home soon.” Your hands were tightly wound behind your back as the young Ragnarsson pounded his cock into the dripping walls of his maid. His father’s maid really; the adorable frills of your black dress flipped up to expose the very thing that got him so excited. A lack of panties covering your glistening wet pussy.

“So lettem.” Hvitserk shoves his hands down by your head, slick member disappearing between your sopping wet cunt with every thrust of his cunt. “It’s not like he doesn’t know anyway.”


	18. Last Second

Technically he was supposed to pull out.

He meant to! Really! But everytime he wanted to, those warm little walls milked him deeper and deeper. Just a few more seconds became just a few more thrusts until he found himself hypnotized by the warm clench that kept him so deep.

His unbraided hair slicks his neck when he feels the weight of his orgasm crashing down upon him-- and shit! He’s still midway deep when he explodes, rushing to pull his twitching shaft out while you pull your cheeks apart to look at him spilling his seed all over the furs below you.

“You know why they say pulling out does not work?” You say, drawing your trim fingers between your slit.

Weakly he smiles. “Because I never pull out?”

“Exactly.”


End file.
